


Coated in Red

by dare121



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Blood, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, SOFT GAYS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 09:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15312072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dare121/pseuds/dare121
Summary: The machete strikes down.Down.Down.or, Ellie and Dina are attacked outside Jackson. Then they take care of each other.





	Coated in Red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pirateofantiva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pirateofantiva/gifts).



> WELL i felt like shit but then i read Pirateofantiva's linger. and also left a comment and they replied with smth super sweet and kind and that galvanized me and made me write this in like 2hrs last night ♥ 
> 
> hope you enjoy!
> 
> (also read linger.)

The machete strikes down.

Down.

Down.

Blood spurts forth as Dina watches. Splatters across those freckled cheeks she knows all too intimately. She’s spent the last six months memorizing every single square inch of that face. Those lips, eyes, that mouth.

She looks on as Ellie’s arm finally stills, the sinews and muscles in her forearm flexing and stretching.

Ellie is shaking. Shivering. Enraged. She looks dangerous. Frightening, almost.

But not to Dina.

She’s covered in someone else’s blood, but all Dina can think about is that first moment after waking up, when Ellie’s face is relaxed with sleep and the sun makes her features look even softer than they are.

“Fucker,” Ellie mutters. Her knuckles would be white with strain if they weren’t utterly covered in red.

Slowly, she rises back into an upright position, drops of blood dripping from her chin. There’s an unsettling expression of nothingness laid over her features that would make any sensible person flee as soon as they saw it.

Instead, Dina steps closer. Always closer.

Every muscle in Ellie’s body seems ready to snap, and Dina watches as she shakes off her machete with a practiced flick. Her tattoo moves with the motion, curling along the skin like rustling leaves after a stormy night.

“We should go,” Ellie says, eyes lingering dispassionately on the open, bloody maw at her feet. All that’s left of the man who had attacked them, had attacked Dina most of all. Dina isn’t sure, but she thinks she’s seen him before. One of the travelers who had stopped at the compound not too long ago before moving on.

Allegedly.

Ellie doesn’t flinch when Dina lifts a hand to her left shoulder. She can feel the tension lingering just under the surface. The tension that’s always there when they’re outside the compound, outside the house.

“His people could be around,” Ellie continues, her eyes still focused on the pulp of flesh in front of her, like she can’t look away from what she’s done. Still, her expression reveals nothing, and Dina knows how much it costs her girlfriend to remain detached like this.

She wonders if she should be scared that one day this detachment could be directed at her, but she knows that she isn’t. Could never be. Not of Ellie.

Ellie, who pulls her closer in the morning and snuggles into her neck; who holds her hand so gently it makes her want to cry; who brings her tea in a thermos during every single night shift with a shy smile.

Dina’s movements are slow and deliberate as she strokes her fingers along the spot on Ellie’s chest where her heart sits, hidden beneath flesh and bone. Because she might seem like a larger than life sort of person, but Dina knows. Dina knows.

“Dina,” Ellie says, making no move to step away.

“Ellie,” Dina replies.

A drop of blood drips from Ellie’s chin and onto the back of Dina’s hand.

It’s warm, and it slides under the sleeve of Dina’s sweater, and for a moment she isn’t quite sure how they got to this moment again, of one of them covered in blood with a dead person at their feet.

Raising her left hand, Ellie covers the one Dina has on her chest and wipes the trail of blood away with her thumb. She succeeds only in smearing it a little, but Dina doesn’t pull back. Can’t. Doesn’t know how anymore. Not now that she knows what it feels like to be touched by Ellie, and how hard it is to let go.

Ellie tugs Dina’s hand away from her chest but doesn’t drop it. She holds it loosely, but Dina still feels it, that tension. The thing that drives Ellie to be faster than she should be, stronger than she should be, much more alive than she should be.

They walk slowly, their ears and eyes open for any other attacks, but they don’t drop their connection, and Dina can barely keep herself from staring at the back of Ellie’s head, at the small scar at the side of her neck, at the freckles dancing on her skin as she moves.

They don’t meet anyone else on their way back to Jackson.

Dina spares a thought to the group the man who attacked them was with. Two other men who had looked tired and worried as she had helped to patch them up. At the time, she’d been busy worrying about Ellie, who had somehow managed to fall off a roof in her attempts to fix it. She wonders now if that is the reason she didn’t notice their attacker’s lingering stares and odd words.

She doesn’t dwell on it.

He’s dead now, his blood spread all over the one person Dina cares most about in this world.

Maybe it should bother her more, how little she minded the cuts and slices of Ellie’s machete, the grooves she left in his ugly, angry face. Maybe she should be disgusted with them both, for how they choose to survive, how warm and safe the sight of Ellie’s violence makes her feel.

The gate to Jackson has relief flood through her body, and she doesn’t bother to explain their state to the guard who greets them. This isn’t the first time he’s seen Ellie in this state, and Dina hates that it won’t be the last. Watching Ellie kill with the precision and skill of a seasoned fighter is one thing, but knowing how heavy it weighs on her girlfriend’s mind is quite another.

Now that they’re back within the walls, Dina gives in to the urge to watch Ellie more closely. She doesn’t have to worry about being attacked here, but she can still see the tension in those strong shoulders and in her girlfriend’s gait as they make their way home.

She doesn’t say anything while they’re walking and no one stops them. No one dares to. They must make a frightening sight, Dina thinks, and she knows more than a few of the people they share a town with are intimidated by Ellie’s strength. She’s heard the whispers in the mess hall. They make her blood boil.

With every stare, she holds Ellie’s hand a little tighter, but Ellie doesn’t seem to notice.

Doesn’t seem to. But she is. Dina always knows she is. She soaks up Dina’s love as much as Dina soaks up hers.

It’s almost a blessing that Joel isn’t home. Dina loves him dearly, but she knows how much he worries. Seeing Ellie covered in blood wouldn’t do either of them any good.

Finally taking the lead, Dina tugs Ellie into the bathroom.

The machete is unceremoniously dropped in the sink once the door is closed and locked. Neither of them flinch at the sound of metal hitting ceramic, not when they know what other noises the weapon can draw.

Slowly, Dina brings both hands to Ellie’s chest.

She is in no hurry. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than right here.

Her fingers are steady and careful as she unbuttons Ellie’s green flannel. It’s one of her favorites, and she knows Ellie will spend hours scrubbing it to get the blood out. But that doesn’t matter now.

It drops to the floor without a sound, leaving Ellie in a dark blue t-shirt and her jeans. There’s a ring of blood staining the neckline, and Dina takes a few precious seconds to smooth her fingers along the outline. It’s proof, she thinks, proof of how far Ellie will go. For her. For Joel. For the people she loves.

Gently, she slides her hands down and under the t-shirt and helps Ellie pull it up and over her head. It joins the flannel on the floor and Ellie’s black sports bra is quick to follow.

Before she keeps going, Dina leans forward to press a lingering kiss against Ellie’s sternum. She closes her eyes and feels Ellie tremble under her touch. Neither of them says a word.

Ellie’s jeans slide down almost by themselves once Dina has unbuckled her belt and undone the button and zipper. Shoes and socks are slipped off, a pair of boxer briefs follow. Then, a hair tie is pulled off, letting soft curls of brown hair free of a small ponytail.

And then Ellie is naked, and the blood is less pronounced. Less all-encompassing.

Dina has heard her girlfriend being described as gangly and scrappy too many times to count, but to her, she just looks like _Ellie_. The girl that Dina wants to wake up next to every morning for as long as she gets to. The sharp line of her jaw and the angry look in her eyes make her oscillate between beautiful and handsome, and Dina doesn’t understand how there aren’t more people falling at her feet.

She takes much less care getting herself undressed.

As soon as they’re both naked, Dina pulls the shower curtain aside and steps into the bathtub, taking Ellie’s hand and pulling her in afterwards. They’re standing close together, especially while they wait for the water to turn warm behind them, and Dina traces the line of Ellie’s collarbones with the fingers of her right hand.

In any other situation, she knows Ellie would wrap her arms around her, but not now. It’s why Dina pulls Ellie’s hands and arms under the spray first. She reaches around the closed shower curtain and grabs a washcloth from the little shelf next to the bathtub. Next, she lathers it with soap while Ellie simply stares at her.

Detachment still swims somewhere in her gaze, and Dina takes great care to slide the washcloth over her tattoo, the inside of her wrist, around each finger. She feels it in her own bones, the loss of tension. Not all at once, but like a valve. Every one of her soft strokes helps.

Blood swirls around the drain, washed away as quickly and easily as the memories never will.

Once Ellie’s arms and hands are clean again, they settle on Dina’s hips. They demand nothing more than a touch, a reassurance.

Ellie’s eyes are closed when Dina reaches up to clean her face.

The worst is gone by the time Dina guides Ellie under the spray of the water. Letting go of Dina, Ellie runs both hands through her hair and washes off the final traces of their afternoon. Her shoulders droop a little as she steps back, leaving the water raining down between them. But she isn’t closed off.

Slowly, softly, she takes the washcloth from Dina, before curling her fingers around Dina’s left hand and pulling it under the spray. She takes great care to wipe away whatever remnants of their attackers blood might be left on her, before dropping the washcloth to the floor of the bathtub and traversing the spray of the water. Her body is warm and pliable under Dina’s touch, and the hug they share is neither desperate nor rushed.

Ellie’s back is finally relaxed, and her nose settles against the skin of Dina’s shoulder, her hands strong and sure on her back.

They’re wasting water.

Dina squeezes Ellie tighter.

 _He grabbed me_ , she wants to say.

 _Thank you for always being there_ , she wants to say.

 _I love you_ , she wants to say.

But she doesn’t, because Ellie knows. Of course she knows.

They finally turn off the water once Dina has stepped fully under the spray and washed off the sweat and grime from wrestling with a man who had clearly been stalking around their compound for quite a while by the looks of him.

Toweling off is a slow affair, and Dina spends more time staring at Ellie than actually drying herself. When Ellie sees her look, the prettiest flush spreads across the back of her nose, and Dina thinks that this is the second time today she’s the reason Ellie’s face is coated in red.

She prefers these circumstances.

They’re holding hands as they walk upstairs to Ellie’s bedroom, and they only let go so they can get dressed in comfy pairs of sweatpants and big sweaters that Ellie keeps for cold winter evenings. It’s early spring, but Dina doesn’t protest the comfort they bring. The sweater is too big even for Ellie, so Dina nearly drowns in it, and she tucks her nose into the collar for a second to breath in the scent she knows so well.

Ellie’s hands are warm on her waist. Her mouth is even warmer when she presses it to Dina’s cheek.

 _I was so scared_ , they seem to say.

“I know,” Dina says, curling her arms around Ellie’s neck.

For a couple of frightening seconds, the man’s hands had been around Dina’s neck to make her stop struggling. Her entire being had focused on what was happening, and she hadn’t heard Ellie’s frantic footsteps in their direction.

Dina wonders if people would be scared of Ellie if they felt her body tremble against their own with shuddering breaths. If they saw her sag against Dina with unrestrained relief. If they felt the way she curled into Dina’s arms.

She feels almost selfish for keeping Ellie to herself. But only for a moment. Because she knows she could never share Ellie. Would never want to.

Their embrace is broken only so they can get into bed and curl up under the blankets. Technically, they have chores they should be doing, but Dina doesn't care.

They lie facing each other, Ellie’s arm wrapped around Dina’s waist, fingers splayed across her back under the sweater. Surrounded by warmth, Dina draws her fingers along Ellie’s neck, traces the sharp line of her jaw. In the forest, it had been tense and rigid with determination. Now, it’s soft and muted. Gentle in its angularity.

She kisses it gently, the way she wanted to kiss it after the heat of battle. Moves on to Ellie’s cheek, to her nose. Tries to kiss every freckle she knows is there.

Ellie is all hard planes. Has to be. Until she doesn’t.

Lifting her hand to Ellie’s cheek, Dina covers Ellie’s lips with her own, and she knows that they won’t talk for the rest of the afternoon. They’ve talked enough. Endlessly. At least about this. They both know intimately what it means to take another person’s life in order to stay alive. To save someone they love.

Dina doesn’t resist when she is pushed onto her back, Ellie’s face settling into the space between her neck and shoulder.

 _I love you_ , she wants to say again. Wants to whisper it over and over against Ellie’s ear until she’s sure she has been heard. But instead, she wraps her arms around Ellie’s shoulders and kisses her hair. Allows that strong body to cover her own in soft tenderness.

They’re both alive, she thinks. They’re both alive.

That’s all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know what u feel -- tried to go for a more immediate writing style with the repetitions and short sentences there. 
> 
> beta-d by the blessed plushkiwi!
> 
> If you want to support me, find me on tumblr @goshdarnitjay.


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